Down The Rabbit Hole
by ClassyClassic16
Summary: Rachel is placed in an institution for trying to kill herself. There she meets unlikely friends and an unlikelier romance. The girls of Glee, but focuses the most on Rachel and Quinn


Watched Girl, Interrupted a last week, United States of Tara last night, got bored, this came to mind. Enjoy.

It will be more than one chapter. Reveiws are always welcome.

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The building looked like every other building on the street. It was redbrick, three stories, and had a chimney on its shingled roof. The buildings that strayed off the main one were constructed in the same fashion. The windows on all of them looked like they were above high above the floor, high enough so no one could see out of them, but light was let in. As if a glimmer of hope were to enter this somber place.

As the car pulled through the gates, Rachel Berry trembled a little. She knew why she was here, and she was well aware of what the building was for, but she didn't believe her case was dangerous enough to come here. She gripped her bag between her legs and she gazed out the window. She heard the rusty gates snap shut as the car drove through them and they swung closed. She was beginning to regret wearing the extra sweater because she was becoming extremely nervous.

Pulling up to the front of the building, she stepped shakily out of the black car, clutching her bag. Standing on the steps was a woman who looked like she had never smiled in her life. She was wearing a scowl, and had short blonde hair. She looked like a person who enjoyed watching others suffer. Rachel tried smiling at her, which elicited a stronger scowl in the woman. She closed the door to the car, and watched with a sinking pit in her stomach as the gravel crunched and the car drove away.

A smaller redheaded woman in a green sweater and pink top appeared beside the scowling woman and began talking to her. Rachel stood there, trying to be invisible. The bandages on her wrists were becoming itchy, and she wished to run down the hill and away from this place. The redhead motioned for her to come closer, and Rachel obliged. The two women parted and waited for Rachel to enter the building.

Rachel walked through the large wooden doors and felt the ominous cloud of despair surround her. She had never been in a place like this before. She felt the two women walking behind her through the empty halls. The doors were all closed, no windows on them, and locks underneath the handles. Her heels clicked on the cold linoleum floor. Rachel turned to face the redhead as she came beside the brunette. Along with the green sweater, the woman also had on a pair of latex gloves and Rachel saw disinfectant sticking out of her pocket.

Rachel was becoming nervous as she turned through the maze of cold hallways. She instinctively scratched at her bandages, force of habit. To her frustration, the last doctors had taped them to her wrists and trimmed her nails. She had no way to get to her scabs. So she held her bag in one hand and began scratching her arm with the other.

Rachel was painfully aware of the fact that this was her new home, at least until they declared her in a fit mental state. She walked through another door, at the end of a barren hallway. They had now moved into a fairly spacious room, one with people in it.

Rachel froze in her tracks and looked around the room, wide-eyed. There were 5 others sitting on the old couches, one in particular, was sitting perched on the armrest. Rachel gripped her bag and furiously began starching her knuckles.

The walls were white, like the rest of the building. The windows were high on the walls, tall enough so no one could look through them. There was a table with chairs around it in the middle of the room, a television propped up against one wall with the old brown couches surrounding it. There was another hallway leading out of the room to Rachel's left. She couldn't see down it from where she was standing, and all she felt now was the heat radiating off her cheeks while the other girls stared at her.

The redhead introduced Rachel to the other girls, and Rachel learned that they would be the people who were in her section. Allegedly, these people had the same mental state she did, but she wasn't sure what state she was in herself. Shock, numbness, the overwhelming feeling of being lost and empty, Rachel had been no stranger to these emotions in the past few months. She didn't know why any of them had been put in here, and she knew that she might soon find out.

As the five girls looked at Rachel, the redhead told her their names. Rachel was petrified, especially intimidated by the perched one, who was looking at her like fresh meat. After half paying attention, to what the redhead was saying, she was wheeled down the hallway to the left. There were four rooms, three were had no doors.

The redhead explained how the closed door was locked; it was the shower and baths. It was kept locked in case a suicidal patient tried to kill themselves by drowning. There was a bathroom at the other side of the room, down another short hallway Rachel had yet to see and too the left. There wasn't a door, there was a curtain. She continued to explain how the other three rooms didn't have doors so the staff could monitor at risk patients. They were the bedrooms, and it was two to a room. She led Rachel into the bedroom beside the showers, the blonde woman behind her. The redhead took her bag, and clicked it open. The blonde searched it, while the redhead explained that it was a safety precaution.

Slamming it shut, the blonde tossed it bag to Rachel. Rachel then left it on the made bed. She stood in the room facing the two women who were standing in the door way, a scared at their presence. Everything was happening so fast, and so rushed that Rachel was struggling to grasp it all. "My name is Dr. Pillsbury if you need anything," the redhead smiled at her and left with the blonde, leaving Rachel alone in the door-less room. Rachel took off her sweater, and as she heard the only door close and click shut, the rest of the girl burst in laughter.

"Blondie, give me a cigarette." Rachel heard one of them say. Rachel swallowed; she really didn't want to encounter the perched one now. Her sweater was off, and she was now trying to tear the tape off her wrists with her teeth. She looked around the room. It was white as well, with two beds that looked extremely uncomfortable, a wardrobe against the wall with the door and a window above each bed.

"Hey," Rachel heard a voice a spun around facing the door, the tape still in her mouth. The blonde stood leaning against the door frame with a cigarette. She inhaled deeply and looked Rachel up and down before exhaling. She was wearing a tank top that looked too big and blue and white striped Capri pants. She was barefoot, and had a New York Yankees cap on, with streaks of pink running through her hair. "I'm Quinn, your roommate." The blonde tuck out a hand and Rachel shook it. The girls wrist was bony, as were her hands and Rachel was afraid that if she gripped it too hard, the bones would snap. Rachel also saw a few words in what looked like messy black ink on her wrist.

"Come meet the rest of the girls," Quinn motioned for Rachel to come out to the common area. "It's still early, so we can't go anywhere yet. But cartoons are on, and we should start a game of poker game soon. You know how to play?" The blonde took another puff of her cigarette and exhaled with Rachel nodded. She grabbed Rachel's wrist and pulled her into the main room.

"Everybody, this is… Well, I'm not sure what her name is." Quinn had brought Rachel in front of the rest of the girls, and refused to let go of Rachel. "What's your name?"

"Rachel Berry," Rachel whispered. Her face must be 5 shades of red, and she really wanted to scratch her wrists again because her nerves were running high.

"Speak louder mousy, I can't hear you!" The one perched on the armrest laughed. Rachel was sure she was crazy, the way she was acting. She had jet black hair and brown eyes with a gleam in them. She was wearing a large shirt that read Nirvana and had black tights on, with purple fuzzy socks.

"She said her name was Rachel Berry," Quinn puffed the cigarette again. She was looking at Rachel again and Rachel felt it. She smiled at Quinn, who was now biting her lip.

"I like Mousy better, that's what I'll call you. What do you think Blondie?" The girl called to Quinn. She looked crazy, the way she was laughing.

"Mousy can work, I think Sexy is better," Quinn smiled at Rachel, who wanted nothing more than to go back home. This was turning out to be the worst experience of her life and she wished the bottle of vodka and pills had worked. She felt Quinn's hand on her ass and she jumped.

"I don't mind either I guess." Rachel whispered, moving away from Quinn. The blond of course wouldn't let her get too far. Rachel looked at the girl in a certain fright. She was clearly afraid of nothing and she had her eyes set on Rachel. The short girl was positive that she wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

"Blondie's got a girlfriend." The one perched jumped off her seat and landed on the lap of another girl. This one was wearing a mask covering half her face, like the phantom of the opera, and had a hat on, with a blonde ponytail. She was also wearing a black hoodie and green sweatpants with flip-flops. "She's trying to be the new me. But your new girlfriend won't beat mine. No one can beat my Ghost." The black haired one began kissing the masked one's neck, much to her enjoyment.

"Please, you two have just been cooped up in here for too long. I have a boyfriend waiting for me when I'm let out." The black girl spoke. She had long wavy hair, pined to the side with black pants and a pink sequined shirt.

"Who am I talking to now?" the crazy one spoke again. "Is this Princess, or Tiny, or maybe its Duchess, she's always fun! Come out Duchess! Princess isn't fun right now, and I want to party now before we have to go outside." She laughed loudly.

The last girl sat curled in the couch corner. She was Oriental, with blue and blonde streaks in her hair with inked lines on her forearm. She was wearing a simple blue top with jeans and converse without laces.

"I wasn't really paying attention when the redhead told me the names, would you mind explaining who everyone is?" Rachel whispered. She saw a smile spread on Quinn's face.

"Give me a kiss and maybe I'll tell you." She puffed the cigarette and smiled.

Rachel sighed. These girls were clearly cunning and she would have to become so as well in order to survive. "Fine," The words were barely out of her mouth before Quinn placed a kiss on her lips. The blonde tried to wiggle her tongue between Rachel's lips, but Rachel refused to take it that far.

Quinn pulled away and smiled. "You're feisty, I like you a lot." She inhaled again. "Brittany's wearing the mask, Mercedes is in the sequins, Tina's not talking, and Santana is on Brittany." Quinn took another drag and Rachel looked at the three packs of cigarettes in her pocket.

"Just waiting around now before Red comes at sets us free for about 30 minutes." Santana was now sprawled out on the couch. "But at least we don't have the Blonde Bitch. The guys in the other wing have her. At least Red gave us a few board games and TV so we don't go insane!" She lit a cigarette and blew out the smoke stream in a thin line. "Mousy, what are you in for?"

"She's wearing bandages on her wrists, its kind of obvious." Tina spoke quietly. "Cutting wrists really isn't the most painless, I would've gone with pills and a bottle."

"Well Drac, you haven't o.d.'d yet, so you can't be that upset with life. It's not like your parents ditched you here when you were a kid. Ooh you can't ever sleep and you fall asleep during the day." Santana took another drag. "That's some hardcore problems right there."

Rachel was astonished at how Santana was acting. Never in her life had she seen anyone be so blunt, so snark, or so open. Rachel gathered the feeling that Santana was the boss, she knew how the place worked, and you listened to her. She also assumed from the Latina's words that she had been here a long time.

"Mousy, come sit." Brittany called. Quinn tugged at her arm and they sat on the couch opposite Brittany and Mercedes. Santana was still lying on top of them, her head in Brittany's lap and her feet on Mercedes.

"Yeah, tell us about yourself." Mercedes grabbed Santana's cigarette and inhaled, holding the smoke in. She exhaled in a thin smoke line that disappeared when it hit air.

"Mercedes freaking Jones, you have to teach me how to do that." Santana grabbed back the glowing paper and inhaled, trying to exhale the smoke line in a whisp, but instead breathing out a cloud. "Anyways," Santana leaned over and shoved it into the ashtray. "Where did you come from Mousy?"

Rachel swallowed, scratching at the tape yet again. Quinn put one arm around her shoulder and Rachel tensed. This situation was just too weird for her, nothing seemed to make much sense and these girls looked like they had been isolated from the outside world for so long, that they had forgotten what it was like. She felt Quinn's hot breath on her neck and she almost jumped off the couch.

"You are a different one aren't you?" Quinn whispered, her mouth inches away from Rachel's neck and she quickly planted a kiss on the smooth skin. Rachel almost jumped into the air, but Quinn had one arm holding her down. Rachel finally turned to face Quinn, and the blonde was biting her bottom lip, smiling. "I really like you."

Rachel tried to muster a smile, but this was something she really wasn't used to. "Well, if you keep trying to kiss me, I can't tell another about myself." She tried to sound confident, but she stuttered.

"Alright, go ahead." Quinn leaned back on the couch and took a drag from the cigarette, one arm still around Rachel's shoulder. "Start talking,"

"Come on Mousy, Red will be here any minute and we're going to go outside. I want to hear how someone who looks like you ends up in a place like this? You're wearing freaking Ralph Lauren; your life can't be that horrible." Santana was facing the ceiling, waiting for Rachel to talk.

"Well, I grew up a few towns over, in Lima. I am currently 17. I was raised by two fathers in a regular house. I sing." Rachel started sputtering out random facts about herself while Quinn pulled her closer, which Rachel didn't realize was possible because she was already pressed against the blonde's thin frame.

"Sing us a song!" Santana sat up and began clapping her hands. "Come on Mousy, you really shouldn't have said that if you didn't want to sing something." Santana burst into laughter again. "I used to sing too, but then Red got pissed off at the songs I sang and now I don't, unless Ghostie wants something sung."

"Come on Santana, sing something!" Quinn called at her. "Show Mousy your voice, we all know you want a chance to how off!" Quinn inhaled the cigarette and exhaled.

"Alright, alright!" Santana stood on the coffee table in the centre of the couches. She breathed in, looking to be in deep thought. "You went back to what you knew, so far removed, from all that we went through, and I tread a troubled track, my odds are stacked and I go back to black."

Rachel was in a daze. Only yesterday she was sitting at the dining table with her dads and her boyfriend. It was only last night when she had been curled up in her boyfriend's arms, and he promised he'd be waiting for her. She had no idea that these people even existed. She knew that she would be leaving for this place, but she didn't know what to expect. She just looked around at the circle with big eyes, honestly not knowing what to make of these people. Rachel was positive Santana was crazy; she must've been cooped up in here for so long.

"Santana, that is hardly appropriate to be singing. I have told you over and over about that," The redheaded doctor was standing in the doorway. She must've been a psychiatrist or psychologist because she was still dressed in the green sweater.

Santana jumped off the coffee table and hugged the redhead tightly. "Red, it's so good to see you again. Can we go out now, we all agreed on the park this morning when we had the 5 am poker game. Please! I promise for the group that we'll behave," Santana smiled as Dr. Pillsbury looked at her exasperated. Santana was treating this woman like she was her mother. Rachel observed how her eyes lit up when the redhead entered the room. The way Santana had reacted reminded Rachel of a child being picked up from daycare by their parent.

"You know you shouldn't be up until 7, because breakfast is 8 and then you'll be hungry for 4 hours until lunch." Dr Pillsbury, or Red as Santana referred to her, had peeled the girl off her. She was looking at Santana jumping up and down as if she saw this daily, which she probably did. "But I received clearance to take you girls to the park on the condition that you all behave, and I report back to Dr Shuester as soon as we get back."

Santana groaned "That old stuffy man has been cooped up in his study so much he's going as crazy as we are. If he stopped analyzing things so much, he might be able to get a girlfriend and leave us alone." Santana went quiet suddenly, and hugged Red again. "Thanks for the park Red."

She turned around and began yelling at the rest of the girls. "Come on guys! We get to go out, and we get to leave this compound for a few hours." She bolted into her bedroom and emerged wearing a leather jacket and a pair of ballet flats.

The rest of the girls jumped off the couches and ran to get some sort of jacket. Quinn pulled Rachel after her and they went into their rooms. Rachel grabbed the red sweater she had worn coming in, and Quinn pulled on a big black pullover with a red cracked heart in the centre.

Coming out of their rooms and into the hall of the building, Red closed and locked their door. Quinn stayed close to Rachel, popping out a piece of gum instead of lighting another cigarette. Offering Rachel a piece, the brunette took it and blew a bubble. Quinn smiled. "You're cute when you do that, like a rebel 80's teen kinda."

Rachel smiled at Quinn; it was a little new to her receiving this kind of attention. Yes, her boyfriend had paid attention to her, but when he realized what she had done, he had become over protective and distant at the same time. There was something about this blonde that was intriguing. Rachel couldn't figure out what was drawing her to Quinn.

The large group headed down the hallways and Santana seemed to be singing loudly, with accompaniment Mercedes and complaints about the song choice from Red.

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Yes, I made Santana the crazy one, she was fun to write.


End file.
